It’s a funny thing, being alone,
you still breathe and beat and heal,
your physical senses go nowhere,
yet you loose your sense to feel.
You begin to lose your empathy,
become apathetic and sad,
because you realize you will never fall,
and you start to look ahead
You see, girls like us plainly weren’t made
for the diamond ring or rose,
as much as we try to hope and dream,
deep down inside we know
we were not made to be dressed in white,
not formed to walk down the aisle,
we did not prepare our fathers
to stifle their tears with smiles.
Yet we try to get around this truth,
accept our ignorance as bliss,
but deep inside we know, we know,
this is truly it
so we pack our bags and say our prayers,
and try to fall asleep,
tossing and turning with anxiety,
dreading the next disappointment we meet
It’s a funny thing, being alone,
you being to fade away,
you life loses it’s colour,
you world turns to grey
Since we cannot achieve that loveliness,
our hearts will never soar above,
we begin to accept our loneliness,
**there is no such thing as love